


the damage that I did

by sleepyyboyy98



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (idk what that tag is but it's fine), Anal, BDSM, Demon!Zayn, Dominant!Liam, Dominant!Louis, M/M, Siren!Louis, Submissive!Zayn, Witch!harry, butt stuff, incubus!zayn, m/m - Freeform, submissive!harry, this is sort of weird for a first story, uhhhhhh what to tag what to tag, weird irish royalty!niall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 07:36:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyyboyy98/pseuds/sleepyyboyy98
Summary: “Dude, what the fuck happened to your eye?” Blink. “You get into a fist fight before class, or summat?”“Are you talking to me?”“Yes, I’m talking to you, Zayn, your fucking eye is fucking red.” Louis raised his arms, gesturing at the empty living room, “Also, who else would I be talking to?”He hadn’t had a chance yet to look in the mirror this morning. He hadn’t expected a Flicker, or a Shift- in months. Years, even. He should’ve had time.------------An AU where Zayn is an incubus-in-hiding. Louis finds him in the middle of a Shift, Harry is apparently a wizard, and Niall somehow is ruling a secret underground society. Everything is falling into place until Zayn meets someone - someone that challenges his whole being.





	1. your fucking eye is fucking red

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhhhh hi! 
> 
> Title is from the song Love Me Less by MAX and Quinn XCII
> 
> So this is my first story on here. I've been a silent reader for legitimate YEARS and I've been writing bits and pieces of little stories, but never posted anything. 
> 
> I had this idea when I was scrolling through Instagram, and thought I'd give it a go. 
> 
> The ages are: 
> 
> Zayn - appearance: 23  
\- actual age: 243
> 
> Louis - appearance: 24  
\- actual age: 132
> 
> Harry - 22 
> 
> Niall - appearance: 23  
\- actual age: 233
> 
> Liam - appearance: 21ish  
\- actual age: unkown
> 
> A lot of these mythical beings are going to be a bit of a piece-together creation of my own, so if you see anything that is false in lore, it's because I made it up. 
> 
> Let me know if you enjoy! :) Next chapter will be coming soon! 
> 
> **As much as I'd love to, I do not own any of the boys of One Direction and all of these characters are fictional. None of these stories are true and hold no truth to them in normal life. Obviously.**

“Dude, what the fuck happened to your eye?” Blink. “You get into a fist fight before class, or summat?”  
Zayn paused, looking over at Louis, who’s forehead seemed to gleam with nervous sweat, and proceeded to place his sandwich back on the plate in front of him. 

“Are you talking to me?” 

“Yes, I’m talking to you, Zayn, your fucking eye is fucking red.” Louis raised his arms, gesturing at the empty living room, “Also, who else would I be talking to?” 

Immediately, Zayn could feel the hairs on the back of his neck starting to prick up. He hadn’t had a chance yet to look in the mirror this morning. He hadn’t expected a Flicker, or a Shift- in months. Years, even. He should’ve had time.

Zayn leapt up, sprinting to the toilet. “I think it’s best you leave, mate,” he shouted as he ran past Louis’ gaping mouth, stationary in the front hall. 

Slamming the bathroom door behind him, Zayn dared to look into the mirror. What he saw as his reflection drained what felt like the rest of the blood from his face.

Zayn’s complexion looked healthy, if not for a slightly pale undertone to his usually warm skin. His hair was sleep-mussed, tousled odd and sticking up. His left eye was the normal brown. His right eye, however. 

Blinking back at him was a slit of a blood red iris. Black filled his cornea, leaking into his waterline, making him look as if he’d poured pen ink into his eye. 

A knock on the door startled Zayn, forcing him to clear his throat and try to shove hair over the right side of his face, enough to cover the startlingly not human eye. 

“Is there a chance that’ I’ve somehow inhaled cocaine on my way over, Zen?” Louis paused, as if he didn’t know what to say next. Zayn couldn’t blame him. “Because if I’m not hallucinating, you should probably get that checked out.”


	2. fucking elf demon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii. 
> 
> Bit of a short one but it got some explanations out there. 
> 
> Next one's up as soon as I can. 
> 
> xx

“You’re telling me that you’re some kind of demon.” Louis took a deep breath, steepling his fingers in front of him. “Like, you could send me to hell for turning your laundry pink again.”

Zayn shifted in his seat, rolling his eyes. Demons, like some kind of scary bedtime story. Technically, Zayn considered himself lucky. At least Louis hadn’t threw a knife at him, or ran out the door screaming yet. He only wished he’d not mentioned Below, since that was a long story. 

“Close, Lou. Incubi are a little different.” Cracking a sly grin, he motioned to his head, drawing out elongated horns protruding out of the air in front of him. “Demons have horns. Huge ones. Hazza would scream bloody murder, mate.” 

Standing up from his seat, he ran his hand through his hair. 

“Niall’d probably think it’d be sick, though.” 

“Do you have any pictures? A photo album?” 

“Mate. You’re dreaming.” 

Louis laughed, “Am not! I just learned that you’re some kind of otherwordly being,” he gave Zayn a pointed look. “Forgive me for not knowing my arse from my head. Maybe there’s some kind of demon college I don’t know about.” 

Zayn frowned, looking down. He knew Louis didn’t mean it negatively, and he’d never wanted to keep secrets, or hide important details from Louis, Harry, and Niall. But there was something about certain lifestyles that he’d learned weren’t exactly accepted amongst humans. Having to sleep with tens of people for their Energy every couple of years to stay alive really wasn’t one of them. Zayn had learned the downside of his immortality what felt like thousands of years ago. 

He opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say next. 

“I... didn’t want to tell you, and then...” Blink. Zayn looked up, staring at Louis with both of his eyes. He started to shiver.

“I don’t think I could handle any of you leaving once you realize how fucked up I am.” 

Louis’ face fell as he rushed over to Zayn’s side, gripping him in a one-armed hug. Warmth flooded Zayn’s body, and he gasps, his eyes flying open as he pushed Louis’ body away from him, shivering harder. 

“Don’t. You can’t- you can’t touch me.” Zayn’s voice shakes as he speaks, keeping his arms stretched out, warding Louis away from him. 

“I think you should leave.” 

“Not bloody likely, mate.” 

Louis starts shaking his head furiously, arms crossed over his chest. Sitting down in a blanket-cloaked armchair, he takes out his iPhone and waits. 

“Now tell me all about how we can get through this. You look like you could use a bit of a cuddle, but apparently I’m not allowed to make that happen, so I’m going to need to know what else I can do.” 

Shuffling closer to Louis’ chair on his own, Zayn looks up hesitantly. 

“You really want to stick around? Even if I start getting pointy ears?” 

“Of course, Zen, you’re one of my best friends,” Finally processing what Zayn said, Louis jerked backwards, nearly tipping over his chair. “You get pointy ears!?” 

“Y-You just told me you wanted to help, Lou!!” 

“You didn’t tell me you were an elf demon!!” 

“Stop calling me a demon!! Incubus, Lou! It’s 2019, you’re good at pronouns!” 

A honked laugh from behind Louis and Zayn caused them both to freeze, both sets of eyes, human as well as incubus, wide and nervous. Standing up and turning around, Zayn faces Harry. 

Harry shrieks, his scarf, that was previously in his hand, dropped to the floor. 

“Shit, Zayn, he wasn’t joking when he called you a demon?”

Harry dropped his coat and bag unceremoniously on the floor, toeing off his deep brown Chelsea boots beside them. Clapping his hands excitedly, he made his way over to where Louis and Zayn were. 

“I haven’t met a demon in years. What kind of demon are you? Do you-” His eyes widened, as if Zayn being a demon wasn’t completely fucking mental, “do you like, shed?” 

As Harry finishes his rant, he reaches his hands over to Zayn’s lap and starts rubbing his thighs in what is probably meant to be a comforting gesture. 

Zayn leaps back, chest heaving, too shocked to fully digest what Harry knows, the information he so freely gives Zayn without even being asked. The demon community was smaller now, due to demon hunts in the past hundred years that he only barely managed to escape. 

Looking at Harry now, Zayn senses almost a magicky aura around him. Considering how cagey Harry had been in the past in regards to his education, what his family did for work, alongside so many other things… Zayn is almost shocked that he didn’t see it before now. 

“How could you have not told me you’re a witch, Haz?” 

“Don’t be such a hypocrite. You’ve been a fucking demon this whole time, and we’ve known each other for years.” Harry adjusted his skinnies before sitting down on the adjacent sofa, tapping his feet lightly on the carpet in a slow, rhythmic beat. 

“Besides, what’s life without a few secrets up our sleeves? I’m a witch, Niall’s kind of Irish royalty or some shit, Lou’s a sire-” Louis leapt from his seat, throwing his hands over Harry’s mouth. 

“Yof tfelling mfe ooh dint till hfm?” Harry mumbles, eyebrows arched at Louis as he sits overtop of him. 

Zayn backs up, deciding to walk over to the kitchen. Louis is still staring at Harry as if he could yell with his eyes, while Harry looks somewhat like a wounded puppy. He fills his tea kettle with hot water and a few herbs, setting it on the stove. Hot steam wooshes out of the top of the kettle, the smell of it making Zayn grin. 

“Get off him, Lou. Now what’s this about you being a whatsit?” 

Shrugging, he wipes down the counter. The tea kettle whistles as a neighbour’s music floods through their ceiling. Zayn rolls his eyes for what feels like the hundredth time today. 

“Tea, anyone?” 

\--------

Zayn, Louis and Harry huddled together and sat for hours, discussing each of their secret lives. Harry talked about potions and remedies he has that could help Zayn’s touch-sensitivity during his Shift, and his old witch school. Louis explained why he never sang in the car, or shower, and small details of his family underneath the surface of the ocean. Meanwhile, Zayn absorbed pieces of information that he never knew he would be privileged enough to know.  
Demons were prone to hermit-like tendencies. Burrowing away in small areas, only coming out at night when prey was the easiest to seduce. Years of Zayn’s life are a blur, consumed by lust and forgetting what it felt like to breathe on his own. 

“I-I, erm. My stories aren’t exactly as… exciting, I suppose. Sorry.” 

Zayn shrank into himself, blankets piled on from Harry and Louis falling around his shoulders and slightly smoking. One ear was slightly pointed, while his teeth looked brighter, perhaps longer. His Shift always made him hot to the touch, irritable and shifty. Made him want to lunge for the closest body able to let him Feed. 

“I was turned when I was young. I was out with some coworkers, we-” Zayn’s eyes started to water as he pushed the blankets onto the floor. 

“We were drinking. I remember seeing this beautiful woman, and she- I remember following her to the loo. And searing pain.” Gulping, he bit back hot tears. 

“I woke up on fucking fire and naked in a bush somewhere north of Gatwick. Never saw the woman again.” 

Holding back a yawn, Harry rubbed Zayn’s arm, wincing at the temperature. 

“You’ve got us now, Zaynie.” Chuckling, he sat up and made his way to Zayn’s bedroom, shedding layers as he went. 

Panicked, Zayn leapt up, struggling to throw clothes back at Harry. 

“No! No no, Haz, no. You don’t need to do that. I am perfectly fine. No.” 

“You don’t want all this?” 

Harry shimmied his shoulders, grinning with a dimple carved deep into the side of his cheek. Zayn couldn't help but to start shimmying alongside Harry, grinning as he did. He couldn't help but think that no one had made him feel this comfortable, this relaxed, about what he was in years. Blushing slightly, Zayn stopped and stepped back. 

Laughing, he shook his head. 

“Nah, mate. Lou can keep you. I could use your help with a Shakespeare assignment, though.” 

Shuffling a pullover back over Harry’s head from behind, Louis cackles. 

“What would I do without the two of you to make my life even crazier? 

“Dunno mate,” Zayn grins. “But I’m glad I don’t have to find out.”


	3. something peculiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy, me again. 
> 
> hope you like this one! 
> 
> something spooky is brewing

Life went back to normal for a few weeks, after that. Zayn went on a Flicker Trip, as he liked to call them. He suspected that he wouldn’t Shift for at least four months, now. His last Shift was somewhere between December and January, and it was May. The hotter months were the worst, but as long as he stayed away from large amounts of people, he’d be okay. Zayn did homework with Harry and Louis, worked with Niall at his bookstore, and generally kept to himself, like usual.

Louis caught him moodily painting in his room, most times. This particular morning wasn't any different. Yellow and blue stripes slashed across Zayn's canvases, his earphones firmly shoved in his ears. As Zayn hummed along to Queen, Louis sat down on Zayn's bed and rolled two perfect joints, enjoying the calm notes coming from Zayn. Prying one earphone out of his ear, Zayn looked over at Louis. 

"You going to share?" 

"Of course, mate. What kind of person would I be if I didn't share my marijuana with my very own darling demon?" 

Rolling his eyes, Zayn pushed up his sleeves and started to rinse his paintbrushes, letting them dry over a small rack at the end of his bed. 

"Again, not a demon. Technically." 

Pausing his music, Zayn sat down beside Louis and plucked the newly lit joint from his mouth and inhaled deep, holding the smoke in his mouth. After a few more silent passes between the two of them, the joint was a small cherry at the end of their fingers. Zayn's head felt fuzzy, his mouth sticky and dry. 

"I feel like everything's about to change again," Zayn mused, looking over at Louis with his eyes barely open. Rock music could be heard in the distance, Zayn's open window letting in cool air along with it. 

"What makes you say that, Zayno?" 

"I dunno," Zayn said quietly. "Just a feeling." 

\-------

Walking home from class later on that day carried Zayn to a bakery about a block away from his flat. He’d never seen this particular bakery before, and he always loved a good pastry. Closing his umbrella that was guarding him from the London spring showers, he squared his shoulders and opened the door.

Tinkling bells sounded above Zayn as the door swung open. Dense smells of flour and milk, rich sweets and fluffy muffins wafted into Zayn’s nose, knocking him senseless for a moment. Blinking up ahead of him, he took in what he saw. 

In front of him was somewhat of a smaller-framed young man, with wavy chestnut hair and a birthmark near his Adam’s apple. He lingered behind the counter, slowly wiping away flour off of all the surfaces, white cascading around him. 

“Bit of a tumble with a bag of flour, I’m afraid! My da always says that I’m too clumsy to be out here, but I beg to differ, I mean, I’m perfectly capable, I’m a growing boy!” A pink tinge dotted his cheeks, and across his nose as he took a good look at Zayn. 

“Erm, a man! I’m a growing man. So sorry. How can I help you?” 

Zayn grinned. This boy was cute. Dainty but sturdier than normal, like he went to the gym often. He could see calluses on the boy’s palms, indicating heavy labour work or lifting of weights. Gymnastics, even. His skin was lightly tanned, with round, full lips and a smatter of freckles across his nose. Zayn’s lips turned up, an eyebrow quirking as well. 

“Fortunately flour is easier to clean than oil. Need some help?” 

Zayn started to push his coat sleeves up, walking forward with an easy grin on his face. He put a bit of calming energy into the palm of his hand and laid it on the boy’s arm. 

The boy reacted as if Zayn had shocked him, letting out an embarrassing squeak of shock. Yanking away from Zayn’s touch, he steadied himself on the racks of bread behind him, a few loaves of rye falling to the ground. 

“Y-you! You’re not! You shouldn’t- I wasn’t expecting you yet.” 

Wiping his hands on his trousers, the boy offered his hand towards Zayn. 

“The name’s Liam. I- uh. Perhaps we should… get to know each other properly, before I tell you what’s happening.” 

Beckoning him with a hand, Liam points Zayn towards the staff room. Behind the counter and into the back of the bakery reveals a well-used, but sturdy table with a set of chairs. A faded blue book bag hangs off of the edge of one of the wooden chairs, the top pocket gaping wide. Stacks of books and jars of what seems like every kind of baking ingredient litter the surfaces of several metal tables, with two industrial-sized ovens blocking off a portion of the back wall. 

Looking behind his back, Zayn spares a glance at Liam. With thumbs tapping furiously on the iPhone in front of him, he looks older. Mature, but naive. Perhaps stressed, with a bit too much on his mind. Zayn wonders if one day Liam would tell him about those stressors in his life, the things that made his forehead wrinkle with concern. 

“So, is there a good reason that I’ve come back here?” Laughing quietly, Zayn shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“Not planning on murdering me, are you?” 

Liam pockets his phone, blushing slightly at Zayn's comment. 

“Erm, no. I mean, yes. Yes, there’s a good reason, but the said good reason is not a murdering.” 

“So if it's not murdering, why am I here?” 

A shrill marimba ringtone cuts through the tension, making Liam jump with surprise. Liam quickly answers his phone, furiously whispering almost the second it touches his ear. Setting down the singular coursebook he had with him, Zayn starts to wander the store while he waits. Beside the two ovens is a rack of baker’s aprons, crisp with their whiteness. Scraping his feet along the floor, he traces his fingers over the surfaces around him. Everything smells faintly of cleaning solution, unlike the mildew that rots the stonework of buildings outside. He admires the rows of fresh tarts lining the prep table. Cherry pie filling leaks out of a large bucket onto the ground underneath him, running into the drain on the floor.

Just as Zayn reaches a small set of stairs with a locked door, Liam clears his throat behind him. Turning around, Zayn’s smile falters as he sees the serious look etched on Liam’s face. 

“I changed my mind. You have to leave.” 

Liam’s tone is dark and demanding as he comes closer to Zayn, being careful to not let his hand touch Zayn as he beckons him towards the door they came through. 

“I’ve had a family emergency, so I need to close the shop.” 

Zayn jerks quickly to the side to grab his coursebook as he goes, confused and worried. 

“Is everything okay? I know we just met, but if you need someone to talk to-” 

Liam cuts Zayn off, staring at what seemed like anywhere but Zayn. 

“I just… need to go. It was nice meeting you…” 

He hangs the end of his sentence, waiting for Zayn to fill in the blank for him. 

“Zayn.” Zayn blinked. “Zayn Malik.” 

As they finish their goodbyes, with a tinkle over Zayn’s head to remind him where he was, he can’t help but think he saw something that might’ve been a trick of the light. 

Something golden, almost like a halo, over Liam’s head as he disappeared back into the bakery. 

Fishing his phone out of his coat, Zayn hurriedly texts his group chat with Louis, Harry, and Niall. 

Zayn: think i just saw something peculiar mates

Harry: ???? details????

Niall: ok but like…. On a scale of sorta weird to zayn, whatre we talkin ?

Louis: pls tell me i get to meet a real demon. 

Zayn: I AM AN INCUBUS, LOUIS !!!!!

\--------

"You're telling me you saw a halo around a random lad's head?" Niall sat closer, eyeing Zayn eagerly. 

Zayn nodded, eyes unable to concentrate on one person at a a time. Instead, he was glaring at a lamp. 

"I swear, I did. Golden and all." 

Niall guffawed, his head tipping back over the couch with laughter. 

"Well, what's one more weird'un in the group, hey?" 

Just as Niall finished, Harry slammed a rather large, aged book onto the coffee table, dust pluming out from the pages. Tapping his index finger to his forehead, Harry's face split into a wide smile. 

"I have a few theories." 

Standing up from his spot, Harry began to pace between the kitchen and living room. Zayn nodded, beckoning Harry to go ahead with a wave in the air. 

"Go on then." 

"I'm just saying, maybe you met a guardian angel." 

"No such thing, Haz." 

"How do you know!?" 

"Because I just do. Next theory."

Huffing, Harry flapped his arms around like a frustrated pigeon. His socked feet slid on the laminate floor, a shocked bark almost erupting from his lips as he slid. Louis ruffled through a stack of file folders, distracted enough not to notice Harry's outburst. The microwave beeped in the kitchen, indicating that popcorn was ready. Niall slowly got up from the sofa, swaggering over to the fridge. 

"Popcorn, anyone?" 

"Okaaaaay. What about, like, a shaman?" 

"I'll pass, Niall. Harry, there aren't any rogue shamans in London with a halo stuck round their head." Louis snarked, folding his hands in his lap. The lights flickered, Harry's eyes shooting to Louis with a hard look. 

"Just for that, you get to sleep on the sofa tonight." 

Louis opened his mouth to snip back, but Zayn cut him off before a sound was made. 

"No shamans. No guardian angels. What else?" 

His eyes were earnestly looking at Harry, darting over to Niall worriedly, who was now back to sitting on the sofa. Niall shrugged, a few pieces of popcorn tumbling from his hands. 

"I haven't a clue, then. Aside from some seriously freaky shit, I can't think of anything." 

Harry slumped beside Niall, defeated. His eyes were sad, his hair looking like a wilted flower. 

Niall set down the bowl of popcorn on the table in front of them. Clasping his hands together, he rested his elbows on his knees and tried to make eye contact with all of the boys. There was an electric static around them, causing Zayn's hair to stand on end. As Niall opened his mouth, a giant boom sounded from the outside the front door. With a shout, Zayn promptly fell off the couch, Harry threw himself on top of Louis, and Niall stayed immobile. 

"Zayn Malik," a deep voice bellowed. 

"We have a message for you."


End file.
